A Not So Respectable Gentleman? (12 page)

He covered her hand with his own. ‘We only know where he is. It will take some travel to reach him.’

‘Where is he?’ she cried.

‘We must keep our voices down.’ He glanced around, but there was no one in earshot. ‘Kellford has a hunting lodge near Maidstone, not far from Marden Thorn. A day’s ride by coach.’

She was still touching him and he, her, she realised. She pulled her hand away. ‘When do we leave?’

‘We?’ He shook his head. ‘You are not going, Mariel. Walker and I will go.’

Oh, no. She would not be left behind this time. They were in this together.

She opened her mouth to argue, but quickly shut it again. She knew him well enough—or thought she did—to predict he would merely dig in his heels if she pressed the matter.

‘Very well.’ She must be craftier than he. ‘Will you ride? That would be fastest, would it not?’

‘We will engage a coach. We’ll have to bring the bank clerk back to London. A coach seems the most secure way. We should reach Maidstone in five or six hours on good roads.’

‘You will have to leave very early.’ She used a cautionary tone.

‘The coach and driver will fetch us at six,’ he assured her. ‘We will have time if we need it, never fear. We’ll find the clerk and be back with days to spare. You will see.’

He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

An ache grew inside her.

She believed he would do as he said, precisely as he had done since he first learned of her problem. But that episode in her drawing room had convinced her Kellford could be very dangerous. If Leo became imperilled, she was determined to be there to assist him.

She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘I am worried.’

He moved closer and leaned down as if he were going to kiss her. Nothing impeded her moving away from him. Except she could not.

His lips hovered inches from hers, but he retreated again. ‘I will not fail you, Mariel. Trust me. Leave it to me.’

The word
trust
made her flinch. It was not Leo she mistrusted. It was Kellford.

Leo smiled again. ‘I had better leave now. There is still much to do.’

Unable to speak, she merely nodded.

He hesitated a moment, as if reluctant, but then turned and walked away.

Mariel leaned her forehead against the bookshelf, trembling inside, wishing his mere presence would not affect her this way.

She straightened her spine and made her decision. When she walked out of the shop, it had begun to drizzle. She hurried to find a hackney coach and gave the driver the address.

* * *

A short ride had brought her to Charlotte’s house. A few minutes later a footman escorted her to Charlotte’s sitting room.

The two pugs ran to her as she entered. Charlotte, still in a morning dress, greeted her with outstretched arms.

‘Mariel! I am surprised to see you again so soon.’ She clasped both of Mariel’s hands and was too kind to mention that it was unfashionably early for callers.

‘I have come on an urgent matter, I’m afraid,’ Mariel told her.

‘Urgent?’ Charlotte gestured for her to sit. ‘What is it?’

The dogs jumped up and settled beside her.

Mariel swallowed. ‘I need a favour and I could think of no one else to ask.’

Charlotte laughed. ‘Well, I should hope you would think of me. What do you need?’

She faced her friend. ‘I need you to lie for me.’

Charlotte’s brows rose.

How to tell her? How much to tell her? ‘I need to tell my parents that I am visiting with you for a few days. I—I need to go some place and I do not want to tell them where.’

Her friend’s expression of concern looked so much like Leo’s that it took Mariel aback. ‘What is this about, Mariel?’

Mariel stood and paced. ‘I—I do not wish to marry Lord Kellford, but, for reasons I cannot explain, I cannot merely cry off. I must contrive it so he no longer wishes to marry me. To do that I must go away.’

Charlotte leaned forwards. ‘You do not wish to marry Kellford?’ She breathed a relieved sigh. ‘I am so delighted. I confess, I could not like him at all. Oh, I know he is charming, but—I cannot put it in words. He is not at all the husband for you. I will do whatever you need for me to do.’

* * *

Lord Kellford looked up as the man entered his library. ‘Well? What information do you have for me?’

After witnessing Fitzmanning and Mariel together, Kellford hired a man to keep watch on Fitzmanning. Fitzmanning was up to something, Kellford was certain. He’d had it in for Kellford for a long time.

Hughes, an average-size, nondescript man, faced him. ‘I have good information.’ His posture was not at all deferential. ‘But it will cost extra.’

‘Extra?’ Kellford fumed. ‘I am paying enough already.’

Hughes shrugged. ‘I had to add some men to follow Fitzmanning’s servant.’

‘A servant?’ This was too much. ‘What has a servant to do with a gentleman’s business?’

‘Pay more and I’ll explain.’ Hughes folded his arms across his chest.

Why not? In a less than a week he’d be a wealthy man—if he prevented Fitzmanning’s interference. ‘Ten pounds more.’

Hughes scoffed. ‘One hundred.’

Ridiculous! ‘Thirty.’

‘Fifty,’ Hughes persisted.

‘Fifty,’ Kellford conceded. He lifted a finger. ‘But only if the marriage takes place. If you do not succeed in that, you will be paid nothing more.’ He’d already secured the man’s work with twenty pounds.

‘That is the agreement.’

Kellford waved his hand impatiently. ‘Well, get on with it. What information do you have?’

Hughes wore a smug expression. ‘Seems that Fitzmanning’s man has befriended your valet, who has told him that you are hiding someone at your hunting lodge in Kent. There is a carriage hired to take Fitzmanning there tomorrow.’

‘My valet.’

That was good information, indeed. Worth fifty pounds and more.

Of course, his valet would regret having big ears and a loose tongue. He had no doubt eavesdropped on an early conversation with Hughes. Well, he’d be dealt with. Turned out within the hour and given no references. In fact, Kellford would pass the word that the man had stolen from him—which he had by stealing information—he’d never work again.

Kellford turned his attention back to Hughes. ‘Leave today and remove our friend from Marsden Thorn.’

He wanted the bank clerk to be in London for the wedding anyway. Hughes would merely bring the man back a few days early.

Kellford leaned forwards. ‘Then deal with Fitzmanning. Hire as many men as you need. I’ll pay. I want you to stop his interference once and for all.’

Hughes gave an acquiescing bow.

Kellford went on. ‘I do not care how you do it, but you must stop him. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Fifty quid more and I’ll guarantee it,’ Hughes said.

Kellford took no time deliberating that offer. ‘Agreed.’

Chapter Twelve

T
he next morning dawned fair, warm and clear, a perfect day for travel after the rains of recent weeks. Leo was glad of it. He’d promised Mariel to return in mere days, and he wanted to fulfil that goal, to stand before her and tell her the ordeal was finally over.

He and Walker had packed quickly, well practised in doing so after their travels throughout the Continent. Each had only a small bag, now resting by the door ready to grab as they went out.

Leo paced, trying to think of anything he might have missed that would affect their success. He worried a bit about leaving Mariel alone. Who knew what Kellford would do? Although the man would be a fool to do anything to ruin his chances with only days left before the wedding.

Walker sat by the window, his nose in a book.

‘What are you reading this time?’ Leo asked.

Walker did not look up. ‘Plutarch’s
Lives.
’

‘Good God. You are reading that for enjoyment?’ Leo remembered it from his school days.

‘It is fascinating,’ Walker said. ‘All these brave, ancient men either overcame their flaws or perished because of them.’

Ah, that was it. Overcome or perish. Walker had made the choice to overcome his past, to leave his criminal days behind him. He’d merely required a little help in eliminating the shackles that imprisoned him in that life.

Now that he was out of it, there was no limit to what Walker could do, what he might become. He would not be a servant forever. Leo counted himself fortunate to have Walker as a friend and companion. He wondered how long before Walker needed to strike out on his own as Leo had done.

There was a knock on the door.

‘The coach?’ Leo glanced at the hall clock. ‘It is early.’

‘Must be. I heard it outside.’ Walker closed his book and rose to cross the room to the door. He opened it.

‘My God!’

Leo turned.

Mariel crossed the threshold, her maid behind her. Each carried a portmanteau. ‘Good morning, Leo.’

‘Mariel, what the devil?’

‘We are accompanying you.’ She placed her bag on the floor.

‘The devil you are,’ he said sharply. ‘You cannot want this, Mariel. Your reputation will be ruined.’ Her ruin was not his biggest fear. He and Walker were heading into danger. The clerk would be guarded, certainly. Kellford was no fool.

She laughed. ‘Leo. My reputation is the least of my worries, as you should realise; however, to my parents and the world, I am visiting your sister Charlotte. No one will know I am with you.’

Damned Charlotte. Still ready to be talked into folly.

Walker approached the maid and took her bag. He nodded a greeting. ‘Miss Jenkins.’

The maid lowered her lashes. ‘Mr Walker.’

Leo glanced back to Mariel. ‘You will hamper us.’

She waved a dismissive hand. ‘Trust me to know when to stay out of your way.’ She faced him, looking defiant. ‘I’ll not wait here in London without a word from you. I endured that two years ago when I did not know where you were, what you were doing—’

‘Did you think I would leave again? Is that what you thought?’ She ought to know by now he would not again desert her.

She narrowed her eyes. ‘Have you not shown me already that you have no wish to be with me? I do, however, believe you will keep your word about helping me. But I intend to accompany you.’

Walker and the maid watched their conversation with raised brows.

‘I refuse to allow you to accompany me,’ he said tersely.

‘Well.’ She took a breath. ‘I refuse to stay behind.’

‘It might become dangerous, Mariel.’ This was the crux of it.

‘It cannot be worse than marriage to Kellford,’ she countered.

Another carriage rolled to a noisy stop in the street outside.

She glanced out the open door at it. ‘Enough talk. Let us go.’

She reached down to pick up her bag, but Leo grabbed it first. ‘I could force you to stay.’

‘You will not!’ She tried to pull the bag from his grip.

He wrenched her bag away from her and carried it out to the carriage.

Walker picked up the other bags, including the maid’s, and followed him. Mariel and Penny trailed behind.

The carriage was attended by a coachman and post boy. Leo handed Mariel’s bag to the coachman who threw it up to the carriage’s roof.

‘Thank you, Leo,’ Mariel murmured.

The post boy took the other bags from Walker.

Walker turned to Leo. ‘I will ride outside. It will give you more room.’

‘Miss Covendale,’ the maid broke in. ‘May I ride outside, too? It is such a fine day.’

‘If you like, Penny,’ Mariel responded.

Walker looked uncommonly grim as he climbed up to the carriage’s roof and reached down to pull the maid up beside him on a seat behind the coachman. Leo assisted Mariel inside the carriage.

There would have been barely enough room for all four of them inside, Leo realised. As it was, he and Mariel could not fail to touch if seated side by side. He chose the back-facing seat, which meant gazing at her and brushing his legs against hers.

The carriage started and, as it made its way through the Mayfair streets to the Strand, Mariel stared out the window. She did not move even as they reached the Waterloo Bridge.

‘Do we spend this whole trip in silence, Mariel? It will be five hours or more.’ Leo asked. ‘We once had more to say to each other.’

She slowly turned to face him. ‘We did, once.’

‘How many ways must I say I am sorry?’ He knew she would understand he was speaking about two years ago, nothing else.

The corners of her eyes etched in pain. ‘You cannot know what you put me through.’

‘I did not know at the time.’ He’d thought she’d found a better man to marry. ‘Even if I had gone to you, your father would never have approved our marriage. You would have lost your inheritance.’

‘You knew that did not matter to me.’ Her voice cracked.

‘You would have lost respectability, as well, and that did matter to you,’ he reminded her. ‘Defying your father and losing your money would have created a scandal.’

‘I did not care about scandal,’ she insisted. ‘Except for its effect on my mother and sisters. Besides, my father would have given in. I certainly know now that he would not have given up any potential source of money.’

But neither of them had known it two years ago.

He leaned forwards. ‘You must understand. I had nothing to offer you. After the fire, I had nothing.’

Her eyes flashed. ‘I did not know of the fire on that day. You thought I would marry someone else even before I could learn of it. I read of the fire in the newspapers. The newspapers, Leo!’

He sat back, averting his gaze.

She spat out her words. ‘Why did you not let me share in the tragedy of your stables burning down? Did you not know how sad I was for what happened to you? How much I would have wanted to help?’

‘There was nothing you could have done.’ His muscles tensed. Ashworth had everything and he’d had nothing.

‘You just went off,’ she went on. ‘You didn’t allow your family to help you. You never allow anyone to help you.’

He felt a knot tighten inside him. ‘My family helped me. They bought Welbourne Manor from me.’

Her voice cracked. ‘You know what I mean! Could you not have shared your pain with me? I thought we were to share everything.’

The desolation he’d felt two years ago returned now.

Her lip quivered. ‘I do not blame only you. My father is the real villain. He decided what I should want and what I should do. You merely agreed with him.’ She lifted her eyes to his. ‘How could you have believed him?’

Leo shrugged. ‘He was very convincing. He had the special licence with your name and Ashworth’s on it. He said you and your mother were visiting Ashworth’s estate.’ He met her gaze. ‘And he showed me your note.’

‘My note?’ She looked surprised.

‘The one that said “Father will explain it all.”’

Her face paled. ‘I did not mean...’

He reached out to touch her hand, but caught himself in time.

‘In any event,’ he managed. ‘Neither of us can change what happened.’

They fell into silence again.

Matters between them were so complicated, he did not know what to say to her. He had not meant to put any blame on her for what happened. She’d been wounded deeply. Not only by him but by her father. Leo accepted his responsibility. After the fire—after his failure—he’d been primed to believe she could not love him.

But he did not want this depressive gloom to remain with them the whole trip. He tried changing the subject. ‘How did you get Charlotte to agree to your scheme?’

She gave him a direct look. ‘I asked for her help.’

That took him right back to her accusation—that he never asked for help.

He could inform her that he sought Walker’s help all the time, but he suspected she would say that was different because Walker was in his employ. And he’d asked for Nicholas’s help, hadn’t he? Of course, he’d lied to his brother about why he wanted to attend society events. He suspected Mariel would have something to say about that, as well. Truth was, the last thing he and Mariel needed was his family taking over and making matters worse.

Although Leo had to admit, at the dinner two nights ago, his brothers and sisters made an effort to restrain their intrusive questions and offers of assistance. Their restraint caused nearly as much tension as if they’d plied him with litanies of what he should be doing and how they could assist him. Nothing was worse than people treading on eggshells around him, holding back all they wished to say and do for him. It was clear they thought he would make a mess of things if left on his own.

Mariel turned back to the window and Leo lowered his hat to shade his eyes. Did she view him in the same light? he wondered. Certain he would fail unless she kept watch?

He stretched his legs as far as possible. He’d had no more than a couple of hours of sleep the past two nights—that must be why he was thinking like a schoolboy instead of the man he’d become, a man who could handle himself very nicely.

He opened his eyes a slit, just able to see she’d turned back and was staring at him.

It was not likely he could sleep.

* * *

Walker lifted his face up to the sun beaming from the cloudless sky. They’d travelled out of the city into the countryside with its green fields and rolling hills that never ceased to awe him. When he’d been a child, he’d had no idea such places existed outside of heaven.

His gaze slipped to Miss Jenkins. If the Kent countryside was heaven, then she surely was an angel.

Had she chosen to sit with him or had it been the fresh air she was craving? He did not know, but he was glad to be at her side.

The carriage hit a rut in the road and dipped suddenly. Walker threw his arm around her, holding her securely in place. She turned to him, her eyes wide, her mouth forming an O.

He released her. ‘I beg pardon, miss. I feared you would fall.’

‘I did not mind. I was frightened is all.’ She threaded her arm through his. ‘Do you mind if I hold on to you, in case it happens again?’

Her touch aroused him, surprising him and making him feel ashamed. She was a respectable young woman, not the sort he usually lusted after.

She looked around her. ‘Is not the country beautiful? I remember being so surprised at all the green hills and the trees and all in the country the first time I saw it.’

His eyes widened. It was as if she’d read his thoughts—or at least his non-carnal ones. ‘When did you first see the country, miss?’

Her brow creased in thought. ‘It was about a year and a half ago when I was sent from London to be Miss Covendale’s maid.’

‘You grew up in London, then?’ As he had. He’d guess, though, that she’d not known the Rookerie. He’d also wager that he’d lived almost half his life before she was even born.

She nodded. ‘My parents had a glove shop in Chelsea.’ Her voice cracked ever so slightly as she spoke.

‘Your parents?’ he asked, wanting her to say more, always hungry to hear of what it was like to have parents.

She put on a brave smile. ‘They are dead now and the shop gone. That is why I went into service.’

He took her hand. ‘I am sorry for it.’

She covered his hand with her other hand. ‘And your family?’

The pain of losing his mother still scraped at Walker’s insides. He did not even know how old he’d been, only that he’d been very young and on his own ever since.

‘Dead, as well.’ He could not tell her his mother made her meagre living on her back and his father could be any one of countless men. She’d died from disease given to her by one of those men.

She held on to him tighter. ‘We are lucky, then, are we not, to have such good employment?’

‘Indeed,’ he answered. He’d be dead without it.

‘My lady worries that you will not find this man you are looking for, but I believe you will.’

When had anyone shown such blind faith in him—besides Fitz, that is?

‘We will find him.’

* * *

The carriage pulled into a posting inn to change horses.

Leo broke their silence. ‘You should stretch your legs a bit, Mariel.’

She nodded in agreement and he exited first before turning to help her out, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her down. From the roof of the carriage, Walker helped the maid down to the ground.

‘Do you need me, miss?’ her maid asked.

Mariel glanced at Leo. ‘I do not believe so.’

Leo pulled some coins from his pocket and handed them to Walker. ‘Would you purchase some food for all of us?’

‘I’ll help you,’ Penny offered.

Leo turned to Mariel. ‘We might have time for a quick cup of tea. Would you like that?’

‘Very well,’ she responded.

They entered the public room of the inn and Leo asked for tea to be served right away. A pot and two cups were quickly placed on a table. Mariel poured, remembering exactly how he took his tea. She did not seem to notice anything remarkable in that knowledge.

As soon as she put the cup to her lips, she set it down again.

‘Oh, look!’ She rose and walked over to the hearth.